


No Judgement

by Cantique



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5277980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantique/pseuds/Cantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He’s uh... “ Mac blinked a few times, trying to catch her mind up as Daisy lit her cigarette. “He’s not my boyfriend.”</p>
<p>The ghoul responded by rolling her eyes. “Well, whatever you wanna call him,” she began before taking a long, deliberate drag on her cigarette, exhaling out of what was left of her nose, “he left Goodneighbour for you and after all this time, he’s still with you. In all my years of knowing that smooth-talking little shit, that’s never happened.”</p>
<p>--<br/>[CW: Drug use.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> Written without a beta because I live life on the edge.

Goodneighbour was a regular stop for Mac and Hancock. Whenever they were passing through they made a point of dropping in, checking in on the locals and reminding anyone who was thinking about stirring the pot that Hancock was still out there. She was a total stranger when she’d first stumbled through the gates, but now Mac had made a name for herself in Goodneighbour -- mostly as Hancock’s backup when he was in town, but also on her own merit. This time was different, though, because she felt completely out of her comfort zone as she followed Hancock down the stairs to The Third Rail.

It had been a regular visit to Goodneighbour until the two had bumped into Daisy on their way in. “Oh yeah,” the ghoul had snorted as she leaned on her counter, “trader caravan passed through last week, told me you two finally shacked up. Mazel tov!” Mac, of course, was totally blindsided by this -- they’d been, well… something for a while now. But she still had things to work through, things about her dead husband and missing son. As a result, that something was nothing official or set in stone, so they hadn’t really been advertising it. There’d been slip ups, of course. Mac had a tendency to hit the bottle pretty hard every now and then, and compared to Hancock she was a lightweight. Someone had to take her home, which was something Hancock never failed to volunteer for. She tended to cover him in kisses as he helped her back to her own bed, not caring who in Sanctuary might see -- not that she’d ever heard Hancock complain.

Hancock, true to his form, though, didn’t miss a beat, entirely covering for Mac. “I must have missed out on gossip becoming the official currency of Goodneighbour,” he joked, shooting Daisy a wink, the two sharing a laugh. That should have been the end of it, really, but once they left Daisy’s store and started making their way through town, Mac noticed that people were looking at her… differently.

As she came to the bottom of the stairs and the doors to the bar opened, she realised that the bar wouldn’t be that different. Usually the clientele didn’t pay her much mind, their focus really falling to Hancock, but this time? All eyes were on her, and even though Magnolia was mid-song, Mac could still hear a few hushed whispers as she passed.

“Hancock,” she murmured, leaning her head towards him. “Everyone is-”

“Hey!” a voice interrupted, a drifter rising from his seat, “Mr Mayor, I uh, you got a second?” Hancock looked as though he were going to refuse, but the drifter continued, his voice nervously cracking as he spoke. “I uh… the caps are on their way! I promise! Just a little longer.”

Hancock let out a long exhale, a rumbling coming from his throat. “Alright. But this is the last time.” The drifter gasped, clasping his hands together and thanking Hancock before he backed his way out of the bar. Hancock merely lifted two fingers at Charlie, “Vodka.”

“What was that about?” Mac asked, an eyebrow raised as Charlie saw to their drinks. The Mr Handy had entirely skipped the process of getting them glasses, probably wise given their previous misadventures in The Third Rail. Instead, a complete bottle found it’s way in front of her, another in front of Hancock.

Hancock gave a shrug. “No idea.” He reached into his pocket, sliding a packet of Mentats towards her. “I got some business to attend to in the VIP room, just a loose end from my Mayoral Duties, you know? Chow down on those and you’ll be ready to party by the time I get back.” What happened next sent a chill to her bones. Hancock took his bottle of vodka, leant down and kissed her before making his way into the VIP room. The kiss was nice, but the stares were not.

Mac eyed the box of Mentats as she screwed open the bottle of Vodka. “Hey, Charlie,” she asked. “Got a bottle of Nuka Cola for me? Think I need a mixer tonight.”

“Say no more,” the Mr Handy agreed, his arms swerving around behind him until eventually a glass and cold bottle of the cola was in front of her. She slid the Mentats into her pocket. She wasn’t in the mood for that buzz tonight. She was in more of a Med-X mood, anything to bring down the anxiety, to chill her out. Despite the social climate in Goodneighbour, though, she didn’t like the idea of shooting up in public. Maybe it was the ‘old world’ showing in her. She’d never really felt bad for using chems, the stigma was basically non-existent compared to what it was before the war, and Hancock’s attitude helped. But she still felt herself hiding it. She wouldn’t take chems in Sanctuary Hills, and she’d feel the burn of embarrassment whenever someone made a note of how red her eyes were.

Deciding to wait for Hancock’s return before excusing herself to shoot up in a bathroom, she fixed herself a drink. Vodka and Nuka Cola, one of the few things that was the same as it was before the war. Her favorite drink. Not Nate’s, though. He couldn’t stand it. Something about a run in with too much Vodka when he was deployed. Drinking was different back then, though. It was something special, shared with close friends and family, fancy drinks with six or more ingredients sipped from expensive, impractical glasses. These days it was something done alone most of the time, usually out of the bottle or a dirty glass if you could find it. And Nuka Cola and Vodka or Scotch was the fanciest it got, really.

“Well, hello there, Stranger,” Magnola crooned as she took a seat next to Mac. “It’s been a while. You’re looking well,” the singer gestured to Charlie, who knew exactly what her usual order was.

“Really?” Mac laughed, happy to see a familiar face, one that _hadn’t_ been judging her for the last five minutes. “I’m running on about three hours sleep.”

Magnolia smiled. “You have to learn how to take a compliment, sweetheart.” She looked around the bar. “Where’s Mr Mayor?”

“In the VIP room, talking business or… something. I don’t know.” Mac gave a diffusing laugh. “I stay out of his Mayor stuff.”

Magnolia took a sip of her drink, eyeing the VIP area. “I see.” Magnolia glanced at Mac for a moment before setting her gaze ahead and into her glass of water. “He’s been missed lately.” She tilted her head from side to side. “He used to spend so much time in here, after hours, you know? But I suppose adventure calls…”

Mac returned her smile, just happy the conversation hadn’t veered the way of her relationship with him yet. She dared to assumed Magnolia was more polite than that. “He makes an effort to come back whenever we’re close to the area. Guess you can take a man out of Goodneighbour,” she watched as Magnolia grinned, waiting for the singer to finish her sentence.

“But you’ll never take the Goodneighbour out of a man! Got that right, Sister.” Magnolia’s eyes ran down to Mac’s hand, which she seized with no explanation, her eyes fixated on her wedding and engagement rings. “I never noticed this before! Now this is nice, and so clean.” Magnolia grinned again, this time ear to ear. “I’ve had some gifts before, sweetheart, but nothing as real as this.” She paused, speaking under her breath. “Not even Hancock, and he knew how to charm a woman.” Magnolia shot Mac a wink, who was trying to process that. “So, who’s the lucky man and where’s he hiding?”

Mac frowned, suddenly wanting to go back to drinking by herself. “His name is Nate and he’s dead,” she replied, bluntly, a little venom rising in her voice. Magnolia and her got along, sure, but she should have been able to tell that Magnolia was being a little too nice today.

Magnolia’s face immediately dropped, softening. “Oh, well, that’s…” Magnolia glanced away, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry to hear that, Darling. It’s hard out there.”

“Yeah,” Mac agreed, taking a mouthful of her drink. “It is.”

The two sat in silence for a moment before the awkwardness took it’s toll on Magnolia, who downed the rest of her water and sashayed her way her way back to the stage, finally leaving Mac in peace. Mac sat there for a moment, stewing in her own anger. She hadn’t even resolved her _own_ feelings about Nate yet -- the last thing she needed was someone making her out to be unfaithful. Even if it was out of jealousy.

Unable to handle her own anxieties anymore, Mac rose and made her way to the bathroom, finding one of the few cubicles with a working lock and shutting herself inside. What would Nate say if he’d seen her like this, she wondered, rolling up her sleeve and fashioning her belt into a tourniquet. He definitely wouldn’t have been happy with her, especially on seeing how good she’d gotten at it. Med-X was quickly becoming her staple, honestly, and she was well-practiced in it. Sure, he’d be mad at first, but after a while he’d be more worried about her than anything. Probably. If he didn’t blame her for Shaun…

She tried to push that into the back of her mind as she shot up. It wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t break out of that pod, and even if Shaun had been with her, it all would have been the same. They would have shot her. Just like Nate. Maybe, if that were the case, Nate would have been the one shooting up on chems in the bathroom.

Mac exhaled as she released her arm from her tourniquet, the Med-X taking effect by the time she was able to re-attach her belt to her Vault Suit. As she opened the door of the cubicle, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were tired, her skin still a little sunburned. She took a moment to fix her hair and wipe some of the dirt off her face. Before the war, this would have been a different routine. She would have primped at her hair, fixed her makeup and touched up her lipstick before rejoining her husband -- who called her Mackenzie. There wasn’t time for that these days, though, not even for her full name, not since Preston had called her ‘Mac’ in the heat of a fire-fight. Mac had stuck.

“There’s my favorite smooth skin!” a  familiar voice cheered from the bar. Daisy was grinning ear to ear, having filled the seat Magnolia had left empty. Daisy patted the stool beside her as Mac approached. “Sit. Tell me everything.”

“What?” Mac asked as she sat down, fixing herself a fresh drink, the buzz making her thirsty. “About Hancock? Daisy, I’m really sorry, but this is all kind of freaking me out a little bit and I’d rather not.”

Daisy gave a frown, watching Mac take a swig of her drink. “Someone giving you trouble?” She asked. “They got a death wish?”

Mac shook her head, lowering her voice a little. “No, everyone is just… people keep staring at me. And Magnolia came over here and got all bitchy about it and… don’t worry about it.” She gave a sigh, running her finger over the lip of her glass. “I’m sure I’ll be ‘Mac the Tramp’ for a week before they forget about it.”

“What?” Daisy snapped. “What are you talking about?”

“They all know, and now they’re… you know.” She shook her head. “I mean, times have changed since I was last single, it’s been 200 years, but…”

Daisy reached out, putting her hand over Mac’s on the bar’s surface. “Slow down. No one is staring at you ‘cause of that.” Daisy gave a laugh, shaking her head. “Honey, you’re in Goodneighbour. That’s the last thing anyone cares about here.” Now that she had Mac’s attention, the ghoul leant back, withdrawing her hand. “All this attention is because you managed to lock him down. Probably trying to figure out how the hell you did it.”

Mac stared at Daisy in silence for a minute. “...Sorry, what?” She asked, not entirely following, silently blaming the chems.

“Hancock’s a charming soul, you know that by now, obviously,” she joked, shooting Mac a wink. “Lotta people coming through these parts, and, well, when you’re a girl as lonely as say, Magnolia up there,” she paused, glancing to Magnolia, on stage and deep in song, “and you meet someone as friendly as the Mayor… don’t think I need to draw you a diagram or anything. But,” she said, reaching to her pack of cigarettes that sat on the bar and removing one between her long fingers, “no one ever really stuck, you know? Not even Magnolia, and believe me, she _tried_.” Daisy leaned in, smiling, “wanna know how many of her songs are about your boyfriend?”

“He’s uh... “ Mac blinked a few times, trying to catch her mind up as Daisy lit her cigarette. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

The ghoul responded by rolling her eyes. “Well, whatever you wanna call him,” she began before taking a long, deliberate drag on her cigarette, exhaling out of what was left of her nose, “he left Goodneighbour for you and after all this time, he’s _still_ with you. In all my years of knowing that smooth-talking little shit, that’s never happened.” Daisy paused, taking another drag. “You gotta forgive ‘em all for being curious. And Magnolia? That old bitch is just jealous. You’re out there changing things and helping people with Hancock, and she’s stuck down here. Let her have her tantrums. I know you’ve got your issues, sister, but what other people think of you? Shouldn’t be one of them.”

Mac gave a slow nod, processing everything Daisy was telling her. If anyone else had said this, Mac would have taken it with a grain of salt. But Daisy… well, Daisy was always honest with her. Painfully, sometimes -- she was still the only person with the gall to tell Mac she smelled like shit if she rolled into town after a few especially hot days, for example. “Thanks, Daisy. That really helped.”

“Any time,” Daisy replied with a smile. She gave a gentle nod behind Mac, in the direction of the VIP room. “Speak of the devil.”

Mac swivelled her stool around to see Hancock emerging, that mischievous smile on his face as he tipped his hat towards Daisy. “Evening, Daisy. Hope you ladies can forgive my rudeness, but when duty calls...” Hancock came to Mac’s side, tilting his head towards her. “Mentats help? Or are you still feeling a bit off?”

She responded by standing up, placing her palm against his chest and kissing him in front of the entire Third Rail, throwing caution to the wind. The kiss was long, the Med-X buzz only really making it that little bit more electricity for her. “I feel great,” she explained with a smile when she finally pulled away. “Now let’s pull some Jet and get this freakshow going.”

Cluing in a little -- all though not entirely -- Hancock smiled pressing their foreheads together. “Whatever you want,” he chuckled, closing in for another quick kiss. “No judgement here.”

That was one of the things Mac really liked about Hancock. She had struggles and she was working her way through them, and he never judged her for it. She never, ever had to worry about that. Why had she cared at all what everyone else might think? It was 2277. Things had changed, and maybe she had, too.

“Good,” she sighed, reaching up to straighten his hat. “I like that.”


End file.
